


Star Roses & The Rogues

by Swashbuckler



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Developing Friendships, Flirting, Gen, Gift Giving, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Insults, Married Couple, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swashbuckler/pseuds/Swashbuckler
Summary: Star Roses has just opened up opposite The Rogues' tattoo parlor, and they're about to make some new friends.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, I know nothing about florists, tattoos, running a business, or anything else of a similarly serious nature and as such, please assume artist licence has been taken with regard to all of it. I'm here for a fun time, not an accurate one.

Iris rang up the price for the centrepiece. "That'll be $35, please." The woman tapped her pin into the machine and a receipt sprang from the register. 

"Have a nice day," Iris said with a wave as the woman left with the arrangement cradled in her arms. She sighed, looking around the shop with a pleased smile. Everything looked even better than she'd hoped. Flowers lined the walls in display arrangements and buckets that customers could choose from, framed photographs of pieces for weddings and birthdays and anniversaries arranged on a shelf beside the counter, and the window bays were filled with ferns and tall, lush indoor plants. It was gorgeous. 

A young man had entered the shop while she had been serving her last customer. He was rocking back and forth on his heels as he considered the flowers on display. There was a shock of bleach through the front of his hair and he had piercings in assorted metals lining his ears and, most prominently, he was dressed like he had fought a thrift store and lost, badly. 

“Are you looking for anything in particular?" Iris asked, moving around the counter. 

The guy looked round, eyes wide and doe-sweet as he smiled. He pointed to the wall of flowers. "Can I make my own bunch?"

"Of course," Iris told him with a nod. "Is it for a special occasion?" 

"Oh-- no," the guy said her with a shrug. "I just want a bunch to give to my friend. What'd be a good number, do you think?"

"Depends on how much you want to spend," Iris said honestly. 

The guy pouted softly as he thought, then dug his hand into the pocket of vibrant plaid jeans and fished out his wallet. He flipped through it, then pulled out a pair of crumpled twenties and cocked his head to the side. "As many as this'll get me?" 

Iris nodded. "Let's see what we can do. What do you want to go with?" she asked. "If you make your choices I can get it arranged for you." 

"How about--" he tapped a bucket of bright yellow lilies "-a couple of these?" 

"Okay." 

"Some of these--" He indicated the orange roses. 

"Sure." 

"And these?" Vivid blue cornflowers.

"Uh--" 

"Oh, and definitely some of those." He pointed excitedly to the black dahlias near the window. 

Iris stood there, mouth slightly open as she mentally pictured the requested bouquet. "Are you...sure?" she ventured politely. "The colours might clash a bit." The flowers would definitely clash a lot, and not just the colours-- but the seemed so genuinely excited. She didn't want to discourage him. He however didn't seem put off in the slightest. 

"I know," he told her with cheeky little smile. "I'm looking to make a statement." 

Sure. Okay. "I think you'll definitely manage that," Iris said with a laugh. So much for worrying about discouraging him.

The guy stepped aside and watched her as she carefully selected the requested blooms. With her basket filled, she returned to the counter, rolling out a sheet of elegant paper. The guy dropped into a stoop, elbows propped on the counter beside the register as she set about arranging the strangest combination of flowers she had ever seen.

"You're new on the street, right?" he asked, looking up at her with open, doe-eyed curiosity. 

"Uh huh," Iris said. "Opened on Monday." 

"Aw, new kid on the block," he crooned. "How d'you like it so far?" 

"I'm really happy with how the shop's turned out, I've been planning this for months," she confessed with a relieved sigh, setting the flowers in place. "We've already had a good few customers come in over the last few days. People seem to like it." She tilted her head, chewing her lower lip. Maybe if she-- She fidgeted with the flowers. Everything was the wrong shape, nothing fit together properly. The dahlias and the cornflowers didn't look _awful_ together, which was at least something, but then the lilies and roses just made it look all lopsided and weird, no matter how she placed them together. She elevated the lilies a little more, staggering the heights to create tiers of flowers cradling the large yellow blooms. That was-- that was something, at least. 

The guy was distracting himself by flicking a finger through the basket of notecards beside the till. "Hey, can I--?" 

"Oh, sure - there should be pen-- " 

"Got it." The guy's tongue was poking out between his teeth as he scrawled a note in the card. Iris lassoed a strip of silver ribbon around the bouquet, looping around her fingers to style it into a bow. To say it could be worse was the kindest thing she could say about it. Orange, yellow, blue and black. Lilies and roses and dahlias-- Hopefully he wouldn't tell too many people where he got it from. 

She tacked on a smile. "What do you think?" 

The guy lit up like a Christmas tree. "Oh, they'll be _per_ fect," he said with a playful lilt in his voice. He flipped the notecard shut and tucked it neatly between the lilies as she rung up the bouquet. He happily swapped his cash for the flowers and held it in the crook of his arm, as if he were cradling a baby. "Keep the change. Thanks!" he called over his shoulder as he left, the door bell chiming as he opened the door. At the same time, a man left the tattoo parlour across the street. The guy waved him over. 

“Hey, Mark!” he shouted. “I got these for you!”

“The hell,” Iris heard the guy Mark say as he crossed over the road to join his friend outside her store.

“They're for you. To say sorry, no hard feelings, I’ve put it behind me, y’know?” 

The man took the bouquet suspiciously. “Alright,” he said slowly, frowning at the flowers, then at Iris over his friend's shoulder, then at his friend. "I'm guessing you picked the flowers." 

"Yup." The word popped like bubblegum. "You like 'em?" 

"...Sure." 

The door chimed shut behind them as they left. Iris shook her head. Well that was weird. She took her basket off the counter and returned to the flower wall, carefully returning the unused stems to their buckets. On the other side of the wide window to her right, she saw the pair walking past and just before they stepped out of sight, Iris caught Mark flip open the label the guy had tucked into the bouquet.

There was an almighty shout from outside, and Iris whipped round to see the young man pelting past the window, pursued by his friend who was brandishing the garish bouquet over his head as a weapon.

Iris hurried out of the shop, door chiming behind her as she watched the pair race down the street, shouts echoing back behind them. They had raced past the window so quickly she couldn't be sure, but she could've sworn she saw the guy she'd sold the bouquet to flash her a wicked, razor sharp smile and a thumbs up through the glass as he fled from the wrath of his friend. 

Across the road, a cluster of people had come out of the tattoo parlour; all were stood in the doorway, laughing as they watched the pair weave down the street.

Something fluttered on the pavement by her heel. It was the notecard the guy had tucked into the bouquet of lillies, shaken loose when Mark had taken a swing at his friend. Iris crouched, pinched it off the ground, and flicked it open. 

Iris blinked and reread it. The note the young guy had written for his friend, and lovingly tucked into a bouquet of lilies had a simple and direct note scribbled in it. _"Hey Mark, these flowers are even uglier than you!"_. It was finished with a smiley face. 

Iris stared after the guy. _What the hell?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iris West, meet Axel Walker.
> 
> The flowers chosen by Axel would not make an elegant bouquet in the _slightest_ and were chosen deliberately for that reason; the colours of the blooms - yellow, orange, blue and black - were taken from his Trickster costume. :)


	2. Chapter 2

It was a testament to her professional integrity that she kept her focus keenly on her current customer despite being fully aware of who had just walked in and was hovering patiently behind him in the short queue. 

"Thank you," Iris waved after him as he left, his order booked in for later in the week. She sighed, and finally turned to the man holding a takeaway cup and a pink paper bag in his hands. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she said with a cheeky smile, "how can I help you? Perhaps something for your wife?" 

Barry grinned. "Okay, I know that customer service voice is fake." He leant across the counter and kissed her on the cheek. "I bought these for you," he said, setting the coffee down and handing her the pink paper bag. Iris took it with a gasp, her eyes flitting from the bag to her husband. 

"You didn't." 

Barry raised his hands, and Iris peaked inside the bakery bag. "Bear, you are the _best_."

"It is what you deserve," Barry said seriously as Iris took a big bite of pastry that was received with a happy groan. 

"Bear, you have got to try this." 

Barry peaked behind at the otherwise empty shop floor. "If I'm married to the boss," he ventured with a conspiratorial whisper, "does that mean I get behind-the-counter privileges?"

"Hmm," Iris hummed, suppressing a smile as she lifted the counter hatch, "I think you do." Barry squeezed through and took a careful bite of the offered pastry.

"Oh man, that is good," Barry groaned as Iris nodded emphatically and took another bite, "I see why you like that place so much." His eyes flicked to her mouth, his finger gesturing to the side of his own. "You got a little something just--" There was a stifled laugh shared between them as Barry kissed the smear of icing sugar from his wife's lips.

"Cute."

Both looked up, and Barry took a quick, bashful step back from Iris when they spotted the man stood in the doorway. 

"Not interrupting, I hope," he said smoothly.

Iris set her pastry down on top of its bag and wiped her hands on her apron. "Not at all," she said, breezy professionalism in place after a quick glance at her husband. Beside her, Barry ducked his head to hide his smile and gave her hand a quick squeeze under the counter. "What can I help you with?" 

The man let the door drop gently shut behind him, waiting for the bell to finish chiming before he spoke. "You sold a bouquet to one of my coworkers yesterday," he said as he stepped up to the counter. "Smiles like he's up to something and--" he flicked a finger around the shell of his ear "--shrapnel in his ears. Likes to make himself hard to miss." 

Iris nodded in recognition. "Bleached hair, bright blue jacket, right?" 

The man tapped his finger against the counter. "That's Axel."

Iris grimaced. "Yeah, I met him. Is he alright? His friend looked pretty mad." 

The man inhaled slowly, and held his up his hand, forefinger and thumb so close they were practically touching. "Just a bit. I wouldn't worry too much; he has lived to regret buying the roses." 

"In my defence," Iris said seriously, "he picked the flowers."

"That," he assured her with dry amusement, "was never in doubt." He offered her his hand. "Leonard Snart," he said. "I work across the street."

Iris took his hand. "Iris West-Allen. This is my husband Barry."

"Nice to meet you," Barry said, shaking Len's hand in turn.

"When you say 'across the street'," Iris asked, "do you mean the tattoo parlour opposite?"

" _'The Rogues'_ are my Rogues," Len said. "And I'm here to do them a favour. My baby sister - after seeing the remains of Axel's...interesting arrangement from yesterday - has insisted someone buy her something nice for her work station. I figured I'd save the rest of our crew the trouble of risking displeasing her."

"Well, I'd be happy to help you with that," Iris offered. "Do you have any ideas about what she'd like?"

"What is the most elegant and expensive flower you have?" Len answered instantly.

Iris laughed. "Wow, how scary is your sister?" Iris asked, squeezing out from behind the counter. The corner of Len's mouth twitched.

"I couldn't possibly say."

Barry perched on Iris' stool behind the counter, watching his wife effortlessly explain the complexities of flower language and the significance of colour to her new customer. When Len was busy considering the orchids on display, Iris glanced over her shoulder at him. Barry grinned and gave her a double thumbs up, then - very quickly - took a bite of her pastry. Iris gave him a silent gasp of mock horror across the shop floor and Barry innocently gestured her attention back to her customer.

The orchid Len was a rich, deep purple and paired with a sleek black stone pot it looked exquisite. "Don't tell him I said this," Iris said as she rang up his purchase, "but you have way better taste than your friend Axel."

"Would it surprise you if I told you that isn't saying much?" Len challenged wryly.

"I couldn't possible say," Iris said very seriously. Len snorted. He turned the orchid carefully, admiring it. "This is beautiful. Lisa will love it. Thank you." 

"It's been a pleasure to meet another of our neighbours." 

"You two should come by sometime," he called as he left, plant pot tucked close to his chest as he pulled open the shop door to a musical chime. "We've seen your work, it's only fair you see ours." And with that, he was gone. 

Barry looked at Iris and shrugged. "He seems nice."

"He does. I'm hoping that orchid redeems me from the arrangement I had to make for his friend yesterday," she grumbled.

"I think it has," Barry chuckled, kissing her on the forehead. "Right, I gotta get back to work. I'll see you later." 

"Bye, Barry." 

Iris watched her husband jog up the street through the window and returned to her stool. She reclaimed her pastry, and - chewing it thoughtfully - looked out across the street at the tattoo parlour opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Purple orchids represent admiration, respect, dignity and royalty, the latter of which I felt was _very_ fitting for Lisa.


End file.
